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8CULPT 



POEM; 



EDWARD LYTTON 'BULWERr4't^ 



Author of Pelliam, UoTereux, DisowneJ, Slc 



WITH A PORTRAIT 



.NEW-YORK : 

r?:ABODY iS; CO. 233 UnOADW.W 



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^i. Alaiks A: Weill. I'lintiT-i. Ij:! \ i-acv-sli-i-pl. 



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SCULP TURK. 



.Arnnnnri? nut ehoris fabros aut an'is amavi. — Hon. l".p- lib. •}. i. 0. 



Till', uiiKJs wj'ic liusirtl on Piiuliis — and tli<' day 
llaliiTd l>y a tliousand swrofs, had died a\^ay — 
Tho wave IxMieatli, the hiiirel oti the hill 
I'ask'd in the heaven's bine heaiity — a.xl were still: — 
Pom]) — Sileiu-e — Aii;"ht were reiiiiiiiii;- on the earth, 
\yni|)h, wiioni niy rude \ else worships, at tiiy hirtlil 
Tlie 3Iuses rear'd thee in their starry eavi's, — 
Laved thy fair liin'js lieneatli their holiest waves, — 
And tanirht the wild soul speakin;;' iVoni thine eye 
'To ([iiaiF the liii'lit of<;eiiiiis frnni t'le sky. 
There, by lon(^ mount, and vale, and di'e|)-l)row'd dell, 
'i'herc, liy the bee-!oved flowers, and mossy cell, — 
There, by the glories of the snnimer noon. 
And tiie sweet sadness of the midnight moon- — 
Thy spirit stored within its still icccs.s 
The myriad foi ins of \ature's loveliness ; — 
The grand — the soft — the lofty and the fair 
Wooed tliy warm ihonghts — and m.ade their dwcllinif there. 
'Tis said — \\\\At minstrel doubts the legc'iid's truth? — 
The day -god loved thee from tliine earliest yoi;th, 
And ponr'd uroinid the nuisings of thy heart 
The shadowy splendours of his holiest art — 
To sul)stan('e li\"d the luigiit tlionghts all his dwii. 
\nd breathed the life of I'o."s\' to stone. 



Inspiring' visions rose at midnight's hour, 

Wikl shapes of Beauty throng'd thy haunted bower. 

Till o'er thy mind creative Genius grew — 

And the hand sculptured what the fancy drew. 

Nymph of old Castaly ! thou lovest to keep 

Thy moon-lit vigils whore the mighty sleep; 

O'er the dim tomb to hold thy silent sway, 

And rear thy marble triumphs o'er decay. 

'Tis thine to fix through ages fresh and warm, 

The frail perfection of the fading form ; — 

And though no more by cool Cepliisus' stream 

The Queen of Beauty haunts the minstrel's dream — 

Though now no more on Tempe's classic vale 

Apollo's locks win worship from the gale, 

Yet still thy spells preserve them to the eye, — 

Chain to the earth the bright forms of the sky, — 

And raise high spirits from the mine and ore. 

That crowds may gaze, — and Genius may adore! 

To thee, where old Ilyssus roves along 
The olive banks, all elocpient with song. 
The bright Athenian bent his thoughtful brow. 
Breathed his young thoughts, and pour'd his lonely vow. 
And the far Isle of Roses* o'er the sea 
Rear'd her world's wonder as a shrine for thee : — 
Where is that vast Colossus, which bestrode 
The free waves like Ambition ? — while they flow'd 
Hushing their wrath like slaves — as through yon arch 
Frau«-ht with earth's wealth, the proud barks went their march? 
Where is that brazen pomp was wont to throw 
Back on the Sun the glory of his glow — 
And seem'd the Genius of that daring clime. 
Dazzling all eyes, and fonn'd for every time — 

' Rlindc?. 



iCLLPTLKK. 

Earth at its tcet, and Heaven upon its blow — 
Symbol ofGrcece, — and art (lion notbinj^ now ! 

Enough! — on forms unwrerk'd beneath the blast 
Or blight of ages, be our wonder cast — 
Is it a Goddess ? lo ! I bend the knee, 
Dream of heaven's beauty! let me worship thee I 
Thou art indeed too lovely for the earlh 
As earth is now — thy charms are of the birth 
Of her first morn — wlien every flower was trod 
And every fount was hallow'd by its god — 
And brighter beings wander'd from above 
To win the treasure of a mortal's love. 
Oh! o'er the sculptor's spirit ponr'd each ra\ 
AV liich memory hoarded of that golden day, — 
Each thought of grace, or goddess lingering still 
J'y silver stream, or Oread-haunted hill. 
All whiclithe soul deems bright, or passiou donv — 
When his wild fancy turn'd — and li.v'd them /air .' 
Oft at deep noon — what time t!ie wearied gule 
Slept on the violets — while the shadowy vale, 
The fairy music of the wood-!)ird's lay. 
The glad bee murmuring on his peri'umed wav, 
The green leaves laughing in the (piivering beams. 
Lull'd the luxurious spirit in w ild dreams. 
Oft hath the marvel of thy beauty stole 
Sweet sha])0, along the \ isioiis ol'my sou! ! 
E'en as when young Adonis wooed thy vow, — 
E'en as tiiou glowest from the marble now, — 
E'en as thou stood'st 'mid vamjuisird gods above. 
In breathing, jialpable, embodied love. 

Terrible! — mark, and tn iiil(l(>! — fold b>, fold 
See round the wiithing sire *^ the enormous serpent's rolTil 

I,:inciHiii. 



jJCULPTURli:. 

Mark tlic stcni paiii;' — the clencli'd despairing clasp — 

Tlie wild limits slriini;ling with that fatal grasp — 

The doi'p coiividsion of tin; lahoiiring hrt^ath — 

Th' intense and gathering agony of death. — 

Yet 'mid the mortal's suflerings still is view'd 

The haugiity sjiirit shaken — not suhdiied, 

Though nature faint, though every fil)rc burst, 

Scathed — stifled — crush'd — let vengeance wreak its worst; 

Fate — terror — hell — let loose your powers of ill, 

Wring the wrack'd form — the sold can scorn you still. 

Nymph of my song! I turn my glance, and lo! 
The Archer-god speeds vengeance from his bow. — 
Not, as when oft, amid his Dclian glade, 
The Lord of Beauty knelt to mortal maid; 
Not, as when winds were hush'd — and waves lay nuit(! 
Listing, and hdl'd beneath, his silver lute; — 
But like the terrors of an angry sky. 
Clouds on his brow, and lightning in his eye. 
The foot advanced — the haughty lips apart — 
The voice just issuing from the swelling heart — 
The breathing scorn — Yet 'mid that scorn appear 
No carthlier passions mix'd with Inniian iear; 
The god speaks from the marble not tiie less 
Than when heaven brightens with his loveliness, 
And o'er each limb th' enanmur'd Graces play, 
Leave wrath its pride, but steal its gloom away. 
Yes, at thos(^ feet, the bard of Fsis sung,* 
Oft in deep love (he maiden's form was flung, 
And her soul fed on passion, till her thought 
Madden'd beneath the anguish it had sought, 
And health with hope departed — and the flush 
Of f('V(M- deepen'd o'er youth's piu-er blusii — 

' Allnilirif; to the stciry of tlic ''.Maid iif Fraru'c." wliicli lias lnvn =0 lifniilifulli 
npplipil liy Mr IMillmari. 



SCI M'TLlIi:. 

(iricf .s ciiiikcr jncy'tl lliioii licr w itlit riiii; bUnnii- 
And love's wild vision woke hut in llie (ond). 

E'en thus of old the Cyprian sculptor * vimv'd 
'The star-like form wliieli blessM iiis soIitud( — 
I'roni earth, and eaithly beauty he had ilown. 
Vnd i;ia\ed a dream of loveliness on stone; — 
Vnd madoatem[)le of his healing heart, 
To worship the perfection of his art- — 
And aye he knelt adoring- — nonewfre near 
Th' empassiou'd homage of his vows to hear. 
The unpeopled forest, and the niMrniniing waA( — 
The shadowy twilight of his lonely cave, — 
The mystic language of fli(! rushing wind — 
Kursed the volujHuous madness of his mind. 
lie rain'd warm kisses on th' unconscious iinc. — 
U^ooed the mute inarhle to his wild end)race, — 
Gazed till the cell swam round his reeling eyes. — 
Vnd tile chill air w as hnniing with his sighs, — 
Hung on that lip, alas! so vainly fair — 
And bicathed at last his very lieing (here. 
O'er the cold cheek rose Passion's blushing hue— 
81ow ly to life the kindling statue grew, 
Caught the warm spirit from his soid's excess. 
And bieathed and mo\ed in living loveliness. 

YcJirs have roU'd on, alas! no longer now 
IJound Ilella's sword i)l<)oms Freedom's myrtle bougli.- 
There, "mid the gorgeous piles which still proclaim 
llnchanged — the changes of her fallen fame, 
^mit l)y the Ixilt, and bow'd beneath the bla-r 
Of fate, — she sits — the s|)cctre of the past. — 
Vet still the warm haliaii Ioa es her loic, 
Gleans the rich harvest from each haiuited >liore. 



;.li..n 



SCULPTURE. 

O'er his rude harp the Roman minstrel flings 

Flowers from her wreath, and music from her strings ; 

And from his native banks to Tiber's tide 

Th' Athenian scidptor wafts the Parian ])ride — 

Glows the live statue, and the polish'd dome, 

And Greece hath found a second birth in Rome. 

Still the 3oung Faun amid the wild flowers sleeps — 

Still his carousal hoar Silenus keeps — 

And still Diana's beauty glows as dear, 

As when Endymion lured her from her sphere. 

Still unsubdued amid the wrecks of years 

Her lofty spear Athenian Pallas rears, — 

And still — though thunder waits not on his nod, 

Throned in his grandeur sits the imperial God. 

Still in mad mirth the Bacchanalian throng 

Weave the wild dance, and raise the frantic song — 

And calm in stern repose — (his labours done) 

Stands, like a sleeping storm, Alcmaena's son. 

Behold, where in his nerved and naked might 
Rushes the Circus Champion to the fight — 
Stretches the gaunt arm in its sweeping length — 
Starts from each limb the eloquence of strength — 
On he bent brow Pride,. I*ij\ver, and Conquest reign. 
Fro- . he curved lip the spnit breathes disdain — 
And all the savage in his sternest mood 
Spe?ks from the form unawed and unsubdued ! — 
Where mid yon puny race of courts can be. 
Son of the woods ! the rham])ion meet for thee ! 
The strife is o'er — e'en as a broken bow 
Nerveless and spent — the Terrible lies low ! — 
He leans upon his hand — the lion crest 
Bows to the dust — and from the untamed breast 
Falls drop by drop life's tide — the eye is dim, 
And o'er the buckler droops the giant limb — 



And death is mi tiie Miahtyl — Aye, thou piuiid 
And guilty rity! let thy ruthless crowd 
Pour o'er their prey the mockery of their niirlli, 
Blood uitli tliose echoes calls forth from the earth — 
And Heaven full soon shuli answer. — Iluiryiiig forth 
Sweeps on dark vvinffs th.e whirlwind of the North- 
Hush — it hath past! — ]}y Tiber's glassy \vav(> 
Crouches — where Brutus trod — yon supple slave I 
Where the voluptuous CVsars held their sway. 
Couch'd with the Vandal, saddens stern Decay. 
Wherein those halls, Hurmoniu waked her string-. 
Hark, the harsh shout of Gothic revel rings, 
And o'er the pillar'd pomp and tropliied arch 
Gaunt Havoc speeds her desolating march. 
But from the midnight of Time's dullest dream 
Be our's to wake, and hail the earliest heaiii. — 
Ages have past — a star is in the skies — 
The clouds are rent — and light and liCo rise — 
See, from each crumbling stone and mou!d(Ming hii>t 
Admiring Genius clears th' unhallo\v"d dust! — 
The buried pomp of years awakes once n;ore — 
The solemn Earth gives up her silent store — 
And the world's second morning p •;•.* its ray- 
Hright as of old, on Michael's eagle gaze ! — 

Approach and reverence, stranger! calm and lo'ie 
The Prophet Chief* claims homage from his throne. 
From that broad brow, closed lip, and marble cheek. 
And high repose, no human passions sjxak — 
But power and majesty, august and proud. 
Brood o'er the aw ful image, — like a cloud I 
Vnd in tlie lines of that tmearthly face 
'I'he eye of Fancy in its gaze might trace 

-M.-o^-i.v Mill, M. -I \n.f.'l... 



Deep visions of tlio Futiirc — the siibliine 

And mystic secrets of primeval time — 

And tiie ra|)t holiness of liiin who heard 

Through flame and darkness God's Eternal Word! 

There the young shepherd* stands, as when he trod 
The earth, exulting in the might of God. — 
Scorn'd the strong armour, and the giant liml.- — 
And knew the Lord of Hosts was over liiiii! 
Round his light form no sheltering garments cling, 
He wields no weapon but the simple sling ; 
Yet in the advancing step — the lofty mien — 
The calm stern front — the undaunted sotd is seen. 
Though armies shrink around him ; — though the brav<r 
Doom in sad thought his rashness to the grave — 
God, who preserved him from the lion,t liere 
Is not less mighty — wherefore should he fear? 

Alas for nations ! — while we gaze, the spark 
Of kindling light e.\i)ir<'s — and we are dark — 
E'en while the gladd'ning minstrel turns to bless 
This Tadnior smiling through Time's wilderness — 
The brief and lonely incense of his breath 
Hut wakes — like Nero's music — amid deatli. 
Again long years ! — from Superstition's chain 
And the dull torpor of her gloomy reign 
Thou wakest Rome ! — like Rhesus, but to feel 
Deep in thy heart, the foeman's fatal steel ! — 
Scorning thy pride, and scofTlng at thy faith. 
Sweeps the fierce Gaul to slaughter and to scathe — 
And darkly brooding o'er thy vanquish'd wall. 
Thy rebel Eagles triumph in thy foil. 



'■ David" by Michael Anpulo. 
i " Daviil said moreover, Tliu Lord lliat delivrred me oul of (lie paiv of (be IJoK- 
ar.d out of llie paw of the Ijear. hi' will deliver me out of the hand of this Phlli«- 
liile," — ] Sam. xvii. :i7. 



.■icUM'TtUi;. 

Pass we witli Olio lirici" curse, iVdia (ilon's toil. 
Tlic strife, the rout, the coi'.qiiest and tlie spoil : 
liOt tlirones arise and ciuiuWe at a brcatli, 
And man exalt in siiaekles or in death — 
These are no (iltin"- sahjects for r.iy lav, — 
To rolder rliincs we winff oar wandering way— 
And tarn where glows in yonder gorgeous dome. 
Tlie Parian pomp of Hellas, and of Home. * 
Proud plumes are waving in the silent air, 
Tlie warriors oftiie earth are gatherM there — 
Fair Britain's sons — the fearless and the free: 
Romantic Spain, thy iiaughfy cliivalry; — 
And that old warlike race, for whom the pridi' 
Of the blue Danube rolls its lordly tide. 
Hasli'd the vain taunt, and awed the e\iilliiig eye, 
Silently stalks thcvengeful Prussian by — 
While in ru(U> contrast to the stately crest. 
The da/./.iing croslet, and the glittering vest, 
With ruiiged gar!), and wondering looks, pass on 
The stern and simple wanderers from the Don. 
IJut oft like ciouds amid tluit gorgeous throng- 
Dark angry forms sweep low eringly along. 
r\ot theirs the rajit deligiit — the soul's deej) ti'ai'.ce — 
<>riel' wrings tlu^ heart, and Passion iires the glantr. 
And ever from the writhing lip, the wrath 
nt" fierce and struggling spirits flashes forth. 
'I'hc iniilter'd vengeance, and th(> scornful jest— 
The Mciit \ olcaiia of the lalxiuriu"' breast— 
The uncoiKiuer'd haired of the powerless will, 
'J'hat bittei' (ciMifort of the con<iuor'd still! — 
l?ut ye, upon whose marble brows serene 
Ages of night in cloe.ds and siorms have bee:i. 

■ I need sciircely ubsorvr, (hat I iilliidc tii the (■oUiM'tioii ofthe I.iuivn'. to u 1 
lhfMro()j)S vf thf I'.llirw. uhiMi at I'nvl-^. n";nrtf^U in -^^irh !nim!i'T^. 



SCULPTt.JlK. 

And pass'd like \apoiir.s from tlic morning star, 
Hallowing tlie beauty which they could not mar : — 
Ye, mid the httleness of human life, 
The fading triumph, and the empty strife. 
Calm in your lofty grandeur glance below 
Unmoved by passions which ye never know, — 
While empires fall around you, — ye retain 
Gods of the mind, vour everlastins: reigrn ! — 
And changeless in your power, behold the tide 
Of fate, but bear fresh homage to your pride. 
Lo ! as of old yc stand ! the deep blue sky 
Of Rome again hangs o'er you, and the eye 
Which hails you in your native seats enshrined. 
Gleans from all round meet moral for the mind. 

Yes, there from every clime shall Genius liriug 
The vows and incense of her earliest spring;* 
And to those fanes the pilgrim still shall roam, 
And Sculpture find her altar and her home, — 
Warm'd into life beneath these genial skies, 
Round the i'ar Dane,* wiiat fair creations rise! 
Here when the moonlight o'er those myrtle groves 
Flings its pale beam, the German Wanderer t roves, 
And b(;ars rich visions home, to gild tiie cell 
Where, lone and musing. Fancy loves to dwell — 
The bright Enthusiast of the Isle shall trace 
In colder climes each well-remember'd giace; 
Recall and rival all that Greece hath known, 
And wake, like C/iiintrri/, Eloquence from stone. 
And tiiere, fair land! thine own Canova still 
Rears o'er thy woes the triumphs of bis skill ; 
Charming the Gods again to haunt the earth. 
And waking Deauty to a second biilli. 

" 'riir.i'waldM'ii. + Diiriiirkc 



scuLi'TUur;. 

Tlioiigli fiiir the way tlio i)il>>iiiii may have past, 
Turns he not home exultingly at last i 
And though in climes to Muse and Memory dear 
My sold is lingering — I recall it hvrc — 
Lo ! where through cloister'd aisles, the sot'ten'd day 
Throws o'er the form a " dim religious" ray, 
In graven pomp and marble majesty 
Stands the immortal Wanderer of the Skv — 
The sage, wiio borne on Thought's sublimest car, 
Track'd the vague moon, and read tiie mystic star. — 
Sway'd from the iilaiict, or the desert cloud. 
To him the Spirits of the Night were bow'd — 
Hoar Time reveal'd his marvels — Nature drew 
Her secret veil from his nnda/.zlcd view — 
For him, her glowing depths had solemn speech, — 
And myriad woilds — life — glory — God in each, 
Ilvmning liigli joy through Heaven's eternal dome, 
Blazed from the darkness round Jelio\ah's home! 
Mark ye — how well the kindling Sculptor took 
The sweeping robe — the majcsly of look — 
And o'er each feature's lofty beauty wrought 
The deep intense pervading soul of thought. 
And that etherial sunshine which in him 
Ijife could not cloud, and Passion could iU)t dim. 
As if the S|iirit which had w ing'd its way 
Through IIea\('u had jiiuged each earflilier sense a\va\ . 
Oh, may his iiiHueni'e hallow yet the i-rcvui 
Where once the lustre of his life hath been! — 
And — though perchance! \\\ \ain. Ambition's toil, 
Vouth's dreaming hope — and Labour's midiught oil. 
Yet, ere the evil days of strife and sin 
Flave thrown their shadows o'er the light w itliiu, 
f .earn we from him that truth least understund. — 
.Mail is most great wliile strnii'iilin::' to be iiond. 



My harp's nulo notes arc dyinc; — all too long; 
My sonl hath jrourM its spirit into song, 
And yet I pause — What though the weeds I bring 
Waft no rich incense from the breathing spring. 
I pause — a Northern votary's wri^ath to twine. 
Land of the Roman round thy ruin'd sin-ine. 

Oh, from thy lore if e'er his mind hath caught 
For fancy, fire, or energy for thought. 
If from the sculptured form, and sacred strain 
For him the I)cauty was not waked in vain, 
Then all ungrateful would the Minstrel be 
Had not his lyre one parting note for thee ! 

Oh, as the image in that fabled scene* 
In w'hich Leontes mourns his buried Queen, 
Came from the dim concealment of long years, 
(As rainbows shine through Nature's clouds and tears,) 
And bright with smiles descended from above, 
Glowing with joy, and redolent of love — 
Oh, thus from shrouded pomp, and silence deep, 
Where Memory sits to ponder, and to weeji — 
Italia, wake ! the hues of life resume — 
And smile auay the terrors of the tomb. 

* 'Wiiilrr's Tiile. Act V. scoiir ". 



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